BBC: “Reuters has opened a virtual news agency in the Second Life online world. The bureau will be staffed by Reuters media correspondent Adam Pasick who will report on the lives and business dealings of Second Life’s residents.”
Excerpts from Adam Pasick’s Notebook
18 October 2006, 3:30 PM
Arrived today, chatting with avatars about getting set up in Second Life. First avatar knew nothing about Iraq situation, but told me he was “really bored!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” and that his parents had imposed a curfew. Second avatar, named “gonowhere43,” advised first avatar of intricate method to sneak wi-fi access from neighbor and thus play Second Life on laptop after bedtime. gonowhere43, who is a 34 year old network administrator, steered me to suitable patch of land and conspiracy theory site in answer to my questions.
19 October 2006, 8:40 AM
Well, my house is now set up. gonowhere43 offered to sublet some space, knows a few loopholes with the insurance people. Nice of him. Still worried about first avatar, whose name was a series of unusual ASCII characters I can’t remember. Hope he’s not in trouble with parents.
20 October 2006, 4:42 PM
Went to the Marketplace to see if I could get a sense of the economy. Pitched incessantly to buy many Creations. One avatar followed me out of boredom, asked me to be his friend. Told him a joke. He responded, “LOL,” and then left me alone. Still trying to work out exact exchange rate for Linden Dollars. Seems to be major underworld here. Some people are online as much as thirty hours at a time. What the hell did I sign up for? What does Reuters expect out of me?
21 October 2006, 2:42 AM
Logged in SL and found new home vandalized. Words in living room read “GET OUT NEWBIE!” Crude picture of ass on couch. Asked gonowhere43 for advice. He tells me this is par for the course, the work of a clan fond of victimizing new users. Have sent email to Linden Lab, but have received no response.
23 October 2006, 1:15 PM
Looks like Carrot Top will be performing near the Marketplace in a desperate effort to claim geek credibility. Carrot Top has been offered $10,000 in virtual property, insists on Vegas treatment. Have asked gonowhere43 about this, advises me that journalists don’t stand a chance.
26 October 2006, 7:42 AM
Now finding “first life” to have problems. Girlfriend tells me I spend too much time in SL, doesn’t understand. Was about to sit down and talk with her, but great deal on Edwardian mansion came up that I had to nab. Girlfriend left, won’t return phone calls. But life is pretty good in SL. Think I can live here forever. Thank you, Reuters!
The Call by Yannick Murphy: The always interesting author of Here They Come and Signed, Mata Hari returns with a novel that whips up a worldview from a rather quirky set of limitations: namely, the call logs that a veterinarian maintains as his son is unexpectedly put into a coma and an unforgiving economy denies him work. What emerges is a surprisingly optimistic, often funny, and very moving account on how one family uses acceptance and forgiveness as a way to atone for hard knocks. (
Birds of Paradise by Diana Abu-Jaber: Forget Franzen and Eugenides. If you're looking for a social novel that counts, Diana Abu-Jaber is the author you're looking for. Building from the free-form exploration of consciousness and identity in Crescent and the gripping procedural structure of Origin, Abu-Jaber's latest novel is her finest, equally fluent with gutterpunk culture and smarmy real estate men. It has been suggested by The Washington Post's Ron Charles that you will likely gain some pounds while reading this novel. This is certainly true. Abu-Jaber's description of food is so precise that it often made me want to do more cooking. But I very much admired the way in which Abu-Jaber presents all her characters as unwitting victims of rough capitalism, which permits them some dignity even as they perform terrible acts.
The Last of the Live Nude Girls by Sheila McClear: This memoir isn't so much about the decline of the Times Square peepshow, as it is about one young woman's efforts to pull herself up by by her bootstraps when presented with few economic options. Filled with self-introspective candor and a quiet dignity, McClear's story is one that might befall any of us in these volatile times. While McClear does get back on her feet, her book leads one contemplating the terrible fates of other young women now moving to New York and falling into deadlier vocations. (
How did you open my diary? It has a super-sekrit lock on it!